


Don't Listen in Secret

by leirabeans



Series: You Made My Dawn [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, F/M, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Non-Chronological, References to Drugs, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-11 08:15:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17443235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leirabeans/pseuds/leirabeans
Summary: “Querencia?” Jeonghan had continued, gazing with glittering brown eyes at Seungcheol.“It’s a Spanish word. It’s a metaphor for a place where you draw your strength from, where you feel at home.” Seungcheol explained, reaching out to trace circles on Jeonghan’s back.“And that place is?” Jeonghan pressed, eyes inquisitive.“Myself.” Seungcheol breathed.You, he wanted to confess instead.





	Don't Listen in Secret

**Author's Note:**

> This song is something you have to listen to.  
> After listening, don’t act like you haven’t.  
> If you can hear my heart,  
> Then is it possible for you to come back to me?  
> I’m still waiting for you.  
> \- [Don't Listen in Secret, Going Seventeen track 6 ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tNBKawhP3gg)

Seungcheol was a coward. That was how he lost Jeonghan, the ray of light in his endless night.

Tuesday nights were Seungcheol’s worst enemy and closest friend. Tuesdays meant that he found himself walking the familiar road to Jisoo and Mingyu’s apartment, with earphones on and loud music numbing him. Tuesdays meant sitting down in Jisoo’s garden, munching on Mingyu’s homemade brownies, and keeping the alcohol away from Jihoon.

_Tuesdays meant missing Jeonghan._

 

 

 

It was two years ago, on the first day of his second year of college. Seungcheol’s head was pounding from a terrible hungover as he sluggishly walked into the Department of Engineering. Why did he think it was a good idea to drink three bottles of vodka with Baekho last night? How did Wonwoo convince him to mix tequila and rum then devour it like water? Most importantly, what was Seungcheol thinking when he signed up for an Organic Chemistry class at 8 AM on a Monday?

Seungcheol forced himself to trudge on, arriving in class 10 minutes late. As he walked in, the old bald professor with a toad face studied him, eyes moving up and down. Seungcheol could hear his professor’s thoughts, could feel the impression and judgement forming, as the elder’s stare hardened at his figure. Seungcheol stood a bit taller, straightening his spine. He was wearing a plain white shirt with his distressed, overly ripped jeans, and black boots. But that was where his “normalcy” ended. Both of his arms were adorned with intricate tattoos, different shades of black and red painting every inch of his skin. He had a notch in his right eyebrow and a round piercing on his lower lip. His hair was dyed faded fiery red, tucked underneath a black cap. Seungcheol knew he dressed like he was trouble, and he was. _Trouble was his middle name._

The professor’s face twitched before making a show of ignoring Seungcheol. Ironic how that was the last thing he actually did. If anything, he made sure that everyone noticed Seungcheol’s arrival and his class was sending him judgmental looks _, nothing new there_. Seungcheol squinted, trying to look for an empty seat at the back of the classroom. He spots one in 13th row, beside a girl wearing square-rimmed eyeglasses. Seungcheol made his way to the seat as his professor continued lecturing. Unfortunately, Seungcheol made the mistake of making eye contact with the girl beside the empty seat. As soon as the girl realized Seungcheol’s intention, she hurriedly proceeded to throw her bag onto the seat.

Seungcheol stopped in his tracks and rolled his eyes. It wasn’t the first time that this happened before and it didn’t really matter to him anymore. It did piss him off because now, he had no choice but to sit in the front. There was an empty seat on the front row beside a girl, whose golden-brown hair was fixed to some complex braid. Seungcheol considered sitting in the front row, showering in his professor’s saliva, or – He realized he didn’t really have a choice since the professor had stopped lecturing and was glaring at Seungcheol. With a sigh, Seungcheol proceeded to the front row and sat beside the girl.

Seungcheol sat with a thud, taking out his iPad to play games while pretending to take notes from the lecture. His head was still throbbing and he felt nauseated, he could even smell himself reeking of alcohol. He just needed to get through two hours of this stupid introductory lecture and he could go home, crash, and regret his decisions from last night. Perhaps also regret his decision of taking this 8 AM Monday class, maybe he was drunk when he made that one too. He suppressed a soft smile, at least his next class (which was at 2 PM) was forecasted to be bearable.

 

One hour into the lecture and five levels up in piano tiles, Seungcheol could fool himself into thinking that he can survive through 8 AM, morning orgo lectures. His professor, obviously, had other ideas.

“You, Mr. Tattoo.” Toad face was saying. Seungcheol fought the urge to ignore the man, and instead looked up from his iPad and met the bald man’s eyes.

“How do I make an aldehyde from a secondary alcohol?”

Seungcheol frowned; he was a Mechanical Engineering major, not a chemical major. He suppressed a biting remark back but he knew how professors played this game, so instead Seungcheol shrugged, “Not sure.” He muttered.

 

Seungcheol’s penchant for ripped jeans, body ink, and piercings had professors making him a target in class. Seungcheol was neither smart or dumb; yet he was a good crammer and always survived through hell week with more than decent grades. His professor was playing that game again, a game he was very familiar with. Toad-face wanted to make a statement in his class about paying attention and coming on time to lectures. Fortunately for him, Seungcheol was the best example. He dressed like a delinquent and acted like one.

 

Seungcheol could also play this game but 1) his head was still hurting, 2) it was still 9 AM in the morning, and 3) he still hadn’t had his dose of caffeine. Thus, Seungcheol pushed down his vitriolic words and just stared at the professor, mustering his most innocent look.

“Why don’t you try to answer?” His professor pressed, a stinky smug smile slowly spreading on his ugly face.

Seungcheol just stared back, biting his tongue and forcing himself to stay silent.

“You came in late, played games on your phone the entire time, and you don’t know how to make aldehydes from a secondary alcohol?” The professor continued, each word dripping with sarcasm.

 

Seungcheol’s limited self-control snapped in an instant and his caustic words threatened to spill from his mouth when the person beside him spoke up. The said girl spoke, “You don’t make it from a secondary alcohol. You make it from a primary alcohol, using PCC for the oxidation process. Secondary alcohols yield ketones, not aldehydes.” Her deeper-than-expected voice boomed throughout the room.

Seungcheol’s eyes flew to the person beside him. What he initially thought was a girl turned out to be a guy with pale skin, chiseled features, and glistening hazel eyes. His long golden-brown hair was weaved in a complex braid. He wore a loose hideous bright yellow sweater that reflected on his eyes, causing it to glitter more. Seungcheol wasn’t sure whether he was enthralled or confused by the great juxtaposition that the man embodied. There was something captivating about him yet he also felt ethereal. Seungcheol couldn’t figure out why his breath hitched as his eyes absorbed the man before him.

The professor huffed, moving on to continue his boring lecture and perhaps bullying someone else.

Seungcheol, on the other hand, met the guy’s hazel eyes. The guy broke into a soft smile, a warm smile accompanied by his eyes turning into crescent moons. The smile that will forever haunt Seungcheol’s every waking moment and every dream.

That was how he met Jeonghan. If Seungcheol could turn back time, he probably would have just slept in the morning of that class instead. He probably would have sat beside the girl with eyeglasses instead. He probably would have dropped that class altogether. He would have done anything simply to have not met Jeonghan at all.

 

 

 

“Have you finished your senior project?” Mingyu was asking, his wide eyes filled with curiosity.

Seungcheol shrugged, “Almost done. We expect to finish it by next week.”

“Is that why you haven’t been sleeping properly?” Jihoon inquired, reaching out for the bottle of soju naturally and slyly.

Jisoo squatted Jihoon’s hand away and turned to Seungcheol, “Is that true?”

Seungcheol bit his tongue, silently plotting how to kill Jihoon tonight. Now that Jihoon has mentioned it, Jisoo and Mingyu would make sure to follow up on him: To take care of him, like they have always done for the past months. Because he was a useless oldest hyung and his friends echoed the same sentiment.

“’M fine.” He muttered, resisting the urge to shuffle on his seat or to scratch his neck. Jisoo would read his nervous tics and then, he would latch on to it. That would be the last thing he needed right now, especially when Seungcheol badly needed a break. Instead, he continued, “You didn’t come home this weekend, where were you?” He turned Jihoon, eyes hard.

Jihoon ran his fingers through his blonde hair, scowling at Seungcheol.

“Wait what? Where were you?” Mingyu and Jisoo exclaimed simultaneously. Worry washing over them as they addressed Jihoon, momentarily ignoring Seungcheol.

Seungcheol nodded to himself, satisfied. Jihoon will shout at him later, but he would pick that any day than Mingyu’s probing eyes. He returned to his strawberry cheesecake then, heaving a sigh.

 

 

 

“Don’t you think strawberries are the best thing to have ever happened to earth?” Jeonghan grinned, excitement glittering his eyes.

Seungcheol stifled a smile and instead, he grumbled, “You say that about beds and kids too”.

Jeonghan’s eyes squinted, tilting his head as he exclaimed, “Because they are! They taste _delicious_ and- I mean the strawberries, not the beds and kids!” He was gushing, ignoring the strawberry cheesecake he had ordered.

 

Seungcheol sipped his iced americano, watching Jeonghan with amusement. It was their first date and all his worries from the night before had disappeared. Why did he even worry? This was Jeonghan he was going to meet. Jeonghan, who would always make the time for anyone who needed his help. Jeonghan, who smiled even at people who mocked him for his hair. Jeonghan, who didn’t run away from Seungcheol when he had taken a step towards him.

Seungcheol should have probably thanked his professor. After failing miserably his orgo midterm (Baekho was throwing his annual party the night before and Seungcheol may have vomited on his exam paper the very next morning), his professor had forced (the fucker used the word _encouraged_ though) him to ask for tutorial from another student. Unfortunately (or fortunately) for Seungcheol, Jeonghan was the only one who didn’t cringe or make up excuses when he had asked for help. Instead, Jeonghan flashed him a soft smile and exclaimed, “Sure thing, Seungcheolie!”

From then on, Seungcheol found himself with Jeonghan in random coffee shops, nose buried in orgo worksheets. Seungcheol found three things that were particularly peculiar about Jeonghan. Firstly, the boy didn’t like coffee yet insisted on visiting local coffee shop to relish on their extended cakes and warm cups of milk. Secondly, Jeonghan had a penchant for styling his shoulder-length hair. Thirdly, he was a biological science major who magnificently excelled in orgo. Seungcheol wasn’t sure whether it was Jeonghan’s calming presence or his soft eyes without any trace of judgement, that made him look forward to their tutoring sessions. The next thing Seungcheol knew, he got a 90% in his next orgo midterm, Jeonghan was congratulating him and bidding farewell as Seungcheol no longer needed his help, and Seungcheol was asking him out on a date with a shaky voice.

 

Here they were, on a coffee shop that Jeonghan had chosen. No books, laptops, or worksheets like their usual tutoring sessions. Instead, Jeonghan was leaning on his hand placed on the table. Instead, Jeonghan was smiling at Seungcheol. Seungcheol thought about his professional camera at home. He thought of taking a photo of that moment: of dusk approaching behind Jeonghan, of the sun slowly descending and shadowing Jeonghan’s caramel hair, of Jeonghan beaming at him with eyes filled of warmth.

Yet Seungcheol thought it would be lame to capture that moment in film. Yet Seungcheol didn’t say anything to Jeonghan and just listened as the latter chatted animatedly. To this day, Seungcheol could see the sun’s halo around Jeonghan, could hear Jeonghan’s laughter every time the sun sets.

 

 

 

His dinner with Jihoon, Mingyu, and Jisoo ended around 10 PM. He and Jihoon bid them goodbye as the two walked back to their place. They walked in silence, mind reeling and heavy loneliness surrounding them both. This was the part that Seungcheol hated the most. When he came back to the apartment he shared with Jihoon after spending time with his friends who knew Jeonghan. When he watched as Jihoon grabbed another bottle of liquor and disappeared into his room, turning a blind eye on Jihoon’s endless drinking. When he laid on his bed at night with a throbbing pain in his chest, before crying himself to sleep. Only to find Jeonghan waiting for him there, reliving every moment they had spent together.

 

 

 

“Just spit it out, Cheollie.” Jeonghan’s eyes were smiling again. His weight was on Seungcheol’s chest. Seungcheol could feel every single cell in his body. His body was hyper alert on the fact that Jeonghan was on his bed, fully dressed and hand resting on Seungcheol’s chest.

“You should go home.” Seungcheol muttered, not daring to meet Jeonghan’s face.

“Why are you kicking me out?” Jeonghan whined, wiggling in his position. If a human’s body could combust, Seungcheol was sure his would have had at that exact moment.

He sighed, “I’m not kicking you out, I just-” He made the mistake of gazing into Jeonghan’s hazel eyes, Jeonghan’s luscious lips, and Jeonghan’s shoulder length golden mane framing his sculpted face like a waterfall.

His lips crashed onto Jeonghan’s.

 

It has been more than a week since Seungcheol had the courage to blurt out the word boyfriend in front of Jeonghan. The other had smiled at him fondly then. Seungcheol could remember the trepidation, the self-doubt, and the insecurity crawling inside him. _Why would Jeonghan want to date someone like you?_ A voice whispered in the back of his mind. A voice that had been his companion for the past years, constantly taunting him. The voice that branded him a monster.

But Jeonghan couldn’t hear that voice. Jeonghan didn’t know the monster that Seungcheol was. Thus, Jeonghan’s lips curled into the most beautiful smile Seungcheol had seen as he mused, “About time you ask me, Choi.”

 

Jeonghan moaned into Seungcheol’s lips, a deep whimper that sent all his blood rushing to his dick. Jeonghan was straddling Seungcheol, hands caressing his bare chest, lips crashing his. Seungcheol relished in Jeonghan’s vanilla scent, running his hands along Jeonghan’s body hungrily. His hands settled on Jeonghan’s plump ass, giving it an appreciative squeeze. At that, Jeonghan whimpered hopelessly. His luscious lips parted and Seungcheol took the chance frantically, pressing his tongue into Jeonghan’s warm mouth. He traced every corner, every curve of Jeonghan’s mouth, etching it to his memory.

“Cheollie…” Jeonghan whispered, pushing away from Seungcheol as his eyes impatiently searched Seungcheol’s. He rested his palms on Seungcheol’s chest, “I want _more_ , Cheollie.” His hazel eyes were laced with carnal desire.

“Are you sure?” Seungcheol breathed, fingers playing with the hem of Jeonghan’s shirt. The other nodded solemnly, tugging at the collar of Seungcheol’s shirt.

“If you want me to stop, you tell me and I will stop. We don’t have to do any of this.” Seungcheol was saying, eyes blazing with primitive need.

Jeonghan’s beautiful face broke into an angelic smile, “So sweet. Jesus, just _fuck me_ already. Need you inside me, so bad.”

Seungcheol gulped, dick twitching at Jeonghan’s desperate request. “Gladly.” He answered, and so he did, wholeheartedly.

 

*

 

“Tell me about your tattoos.” Jeonghan hummed, fingers tracing Seungcheol’s painted arm. Jeonghan was on his tummy, bare and broad shoulder exposed for Seungcheol to lust on. His feathery golden hair fell on one side; displaying the soft milky skin of his neck, which Seungcheol had marked and claimed with purple kisses.

“Which one?” Seungcheol whispered, admiring his boyfriend’s blinding beauty and enjoying his emanating warmth.

Jeonghan pursed his swollen lips then, squinting adorably as he examined Seungcheol’s arm. Seungcheol couldn’t hide the smile that blossomed in his lips as he gazed at the gorgeous boy in front of him.

“This one!” The said boy exclaimed, hazel eyes glittering with excitement. Seungcheol hesitantly tore his gaze away from Jeonghan, sparing a glance on the tattoo that Jeonghan was touching.

 

_Querencia._

“Querencia?” Jeonghan had continued, gazing with glittering brown eyes at Seungcheol.

“It’s a Spanish word. It’s a metaphor for a place where you draw your strength, where you feel at home.” Seungcheol explained, reaching out to trace circles on Jeonghan’s back.

The other seemed to like that, surrendering to Seungcheol’s touch as he snuggled closer to Seungcheol. Seungcheol, on the other hand, savored Jeonghan’s warmth and vanilla scent.

“And that place is?” Jeonghan pressed, eyes inquisitive.

“Myself.” Seungcheol breathed. _You_ , he wanted to confess instead.

“I’m proud of you.” He slightly moaned, voice deep and soft. His wide eyes then fluttered to the new tattoo, the only one, that was on Seungcheol’s chest. “And this one?” He asked, resting his nose and cheek on Seungcheol’s left pecs.

“It’s a new one.” Seungcheol replied, heat pooling in his ears and a blush creeping to his cheeks.

“Yea? Well, what does it mean?” Jeonghan murmured, lips touching and burning Seungcheol’s bare chest with its softness.

Seungcheol hesitated, sighing before he answered, “ _Seraphic_. It came from the highest order of angels called Seraphs. They are the strongest kind, armed to protect who they love at all cost. It also means rapturous, a sense of sublime happiness. Wonwoo recommended it to me. ”

There was a short pause. His heartbeat sped up.

 

“I love it.” Jeonghan whispered with a smile, mirth in his eyes as he closed the gap between them. His lips gently brushing against Seungcheol’s.

 _I love you_ , Seungcheol wanted to shout.

 

 

 

Seungcheol’s alarm blared beside him, jolting him awake. He groaned and turned it off. He was drenched in sweat, eyes wet with saline, and a throbbing pain in his pants. With a sigh, he moved robotically to head for a cold shower.

His days mingled into each other, mundane as always. It always began with Seungcheol waking up with tears dried on his face, banging at Jihoon’s door to find the other holed up in a corner crying, making breakfast as Jihoon tried to piece himself together, attending his lecture, working on his assignments until his body gave up, only to find himself crying himself to sleep.

 _It had been five months and eighteen days since Jeonghan had left him._ Yet everyday still hurt. Every day was still a nightmare without Jeonghan smiling at him, holding his hand, _loving him_.

 

 

 

“Tell me about your day, Cheol.” Jisoo smiled amiably, his lips fixed in a genuine grin. He was in Jisoo and Mingyu’s living room on a Friday night. Mingyu was working in the orphanage and Jihoon was staying with his brother, Yoongi.

Friday nights were the worst: When he had nothing to work on the next day, no routine or lectures to distract him from. When he woke up the next morning and all he could feel was the emptiness on Jeonghan’s side of his bed. Friday nights were almost bearable when Jisoo met with him privately, his company a constant reminder of Jeonghan’s that Seungcheol found both morose and comforting.

“Nothing much, Shua.” Seungcheol shrugged. He wasn’t much of a talker; he never was. Perhaps that’s one of the million reasons why he lost Jeonghan.

Jisoo nodded, absorbing that. They were sitting across each other, half eaten boxes of pizza littered between them. “How’s your project going?”

“Almost done with it.” Another silence.

“Have you attended your photography classes yet?” Jisoo pressed.

Seungcheol flinched. Photography classes? Seungcheol hadn’t attended his extra classes in a long time. Not after what happened, in fact. But, how could he? _How could he take photos again when his muse was gone?_

Jisoo sighed, “He would’ve liked you to continue with it, Seungcheol. You know that.” He added softly.

Seungcheol bit his lip, fighting the tears that sprung up to his eyes.

 

 

 

“You take such lovely pictures. Is this how you see me?” Jeonghan was smiling again, hands flipping through the photographs that Seungcheol had taken. They were mostly pictures of Jeonghan during their dates. Jeonghan lying down on a field of blue and white flowers. Jeonghan shopping in high end streets. Jeonghan chuckling at everything.

They were at Jeonghan and Jihoon’s place, sitting side by side on their couch. His arm was draped over Jeonghan’s shoulder while he faced the TV. Jeonghan was snuggled to his side, his warmth emanating and making Seungcheol feel at home.

“What do you mean?” Seungcheol asked lazily, eyes glued to the screen.

Yet Seungcheol knew exactly what Jeonghan meant. Seungcheol saw Jeonghan as brightly as a blind man saw the sun for the first time. Jeonghan always found the beauty in everything. As for Seungcheol, Jeonghan was the beauty of everything. With his golden hair and twinkling eyes, he made every scene of Seungcheol’s life worth living for. Yet Seungcheol didn’t have the guts to tell Jeonghan this. He had always been a doer, not a talker.

Jeonghan pouted then, “I mean, I look so pretty in these pictures! I’m sure I don’t look like this in real life. Just how much did you Photoshop these photos?”

Seungcheol chuckled softly. He didn’t have to Photoshop any picture of Jeonghan, for every picture shone by itself. Jeonghan was like the sun, always bringing warmth with him. Seungcheol murmured, “Too much Photoshop. I had to stay up for a few nights.”

Jeonghan threw him a look and a playful punch at his shoulder.

Seungcheol had always been a doer. Thus, he showed how much he adored, how much he cherished, how much he worshipped Jeonghan with his hands and mouth that night and every night after.

 

 

 

“Seungcheol, you don’t have to. I’m just saying that-”

“I know, Shua. I know and you don’t have to say it.” Seungcheol snapped, words coming out more scathingly than he had intended.

Jisoo didn’t flinch though, immune to Seungcheol’s outbursts. Instead, he dropped the subject and proceeded to ask Seungcheol about Jihoon. “Is Jihoon still drinking as much? Still partying as much?”

Seungcheol shrugged, “It’s none of my business.”

“Cheol, it is. You’re his friend. You care about him too.”

 

Did he? Did Seungcheol even _care_ about anything anymore? Sure, he was attending his classes. Probablye because they were the distractions that worked best. More importantly, he needed to graduate. He needed to leave this campus, where every wall, every hallway was a constant reminder of Jeonghan.

He was meeting his friends, his support group. That was because their familiarity comforted him. They might have treated him like he was made up of glass. Yet with them, Seungcheol could remain silent. He could remain lost in thoughts and they allowed him that personal space.

But, that didn’t mean that he cared. He wasn’t certain if he was even capable of caring anymore.

“He is my friend, but-” Seungcheol cut himself off. Unable to say it out loud: _Jihoon was Jeonghan’s good friend and everytime I look at Jihoon, I see him, I hear him._

 

If Seungcheol could pick a moment where it all started to go downhill, it would have been that night. He had been dating Jeonghan for the past 7 months, spending most of his time in the other’s apartment. He was either lost in books or in Jeonghan’s gentle touch. He hadn’t been partying much and his friends, particularly Jooheon and Baekho, had been giving him a hard time.

Unlike Jihoon (who knew about Seungcheol and Jeonghan on their first fucking date), his friends didn’t know that he was dating Jeonghan. Seungcheol wasn’t exactly keeping it a secret but he hadn’t brought it up to anyone ever since. Not only did he think that it was no one else’s business except theirs but also, he didn’t know how his friends would react should they discover that Seungcheol liked Jeonghan, liked a _guy_. His friends could look past his tattoos, could tolerate his grumpy moods, and could even keep up with short temper. Yet Seungcheol wasn’t sure how they would react if they found out that Seungcheol was dating a guy: that _Seungcheol was gay._

He didn’t have time to figure it out, however. He didn’t even have the chance. While he was sucking on the sensitive skin between Jeonghan’s neck and shoulder, his phone rang loudly. Seungcheol ignored it, proceeding to mark Jeonghan. _Mine, mine, mine._ The latter, however, squirmed on his seat at Seungcheol’s lap. He pulled away, voice breathless as he cooed, “Your phone is ringing.”

“Ignore it.” Seungcheol mumbled desperately, reaching out to feel Jeonghan’s skin on his lips again, to suffocate in Jeonghan’s vanilla scent again. Jeonghan, on the other hand, had other plans.

He chuckled, pushing the younger away as he mumbled, “It’s been ringing for a while now. Just answer it and get it over with?”

With a heavy sigh, Seungcheol reached out to his phone. _Baekho_ , the dial read. He pressed the phone to his ear with his left hand, while his right hand was drawing circles on Jeonghan’s bare thigh.

“Fuck’s sake, Seungcheol. Answer your fucking goddamn phone.” Baekho was shouting, loud music booming behind him.

Seungcheol flinched slightly from the noise, “What do you want?” He growled, eyes fixed on Jeonghan’s collar bones that was exposed by the big shirt (Seungcheol’s) that Jeonghan was wearing. The _only_ thing he was wearing, in fact.

“It’s been three months since you fucking partied with us. Get your ass over here, right now.” Baekho barked, voice deadly serious.

Seungcheol’s hand traveled up Jeonghan’s thighs and the other’s eyes twinkled with mischief in response. Jeonghan bit his lip and all Seungcheol wanted to do was devour Jeonghan whole.

“I’m busy.” Seungcheol muttered, his voice low with danger and eyes watching Jeonghan with primal desire.

“Get your ass here or I’m burning your PlayStation DVDs. And no, I am not fucking kidding and you fucking know it.”

Seungcheol’s hand stopped in its tracks, “You wouldn’t dare.” He hissed.

“Don’t test me, Seungcheol. It’s been too long and you fucking know it.” Baekho’s words were dripping with malice. Seungcheol knew then that Baekho probably had his FIFA CD in one hand and a lighter in the other.

“Fuck you, fine.” He bit out, hanging up.

 

Jeonghan gazed at Seungcheol, big eyes wide with curiosity. “Baekho needs my ass in the apartment.” He explained, already lifting Jeonghan off his lap as if he weighted nothing, and reaching out to grab his jeans.

“Do you really have to go?” Jeonghan purred, looking undeniably irresistible with nothing but Seungcheol’s shirt on and golden hair falling softly around his face.

Seungcheol’s dick twitched. He kissed Jeonghan’s forehead before grumbling a rough yes. Then, he was out of the door. He really wanted to fuck Jeonghan throughout the night, when his boyfriend was wearing nothing but his own shirt. However, he also needed to save his stash of games.

 

 

 

It was around 4 AM in the morning when most of the party had died down. Seungcheol found himself smoking weed with Jooheon and Baekho in their apartment. Jooheon was talking about a hot girl with big tits in his finance class, “Her eyes were real big too. I’d totally fuck her in a heartbeat.”

Baekho laughed at that, “Is that the girl with a purple long hair?”

Jooheon was nodding eagerly. “Speaking of long hair,” he turned to Seungcheol, “You still hanging out with that guy who has long ass hair?”

Seungcheol raised a brow, his fogged mind slowly processing Jooheon’s words. Guy with long hair? He only knew one, _his_ Jeonghan. Seungcheol shrugged in response.

“Oh yeah, braided-dude! You wouldn’t believe what I heard the other day!” Baekho was laughing boisterously, amusement swimming in his eyes as he continued, “I heard this chick say that Seungcheol was dating that cross-dresser.”

Seungcheol’s heart stopped.

“Like seriously? Seungcheol isn’t gay! I’d beat him up in a heartbeat if he were.” Baekho was guffawing and Jooheon joined in.

Seungcheol’s hand stopped mid-air, rolled joint slowly burning in between his fingers. His drug-clouded mind told him that he would regret what he was about to say next. But Seungcheol was a coward; he had always been. So instead, he forced himself to smile, “Me dating Jeonghan? That ought to be the biggest joke I’ve ever heard in my entire fucking life.”

That was the first mistake Seungcheol had made.

 

 

 

Jihoon was drunk again. Seungcheol was in the living room, nose buried in his masters degree’s application when he heard the front door being unlocked. He looked up, expecting to see a staggering Jihoon walk in with flushed cheeks and unfocused eyes. This time, however, he was sloppily kissing a girl as they scrambled to Jihoon’s bedroom.

It wasn’t the first time that Jihoon brought someone home to help him ease the pain. Seungcheol had turned a blind eye then too. After all, everyone had different coping mechanisms. Yet somehow, his last conversation with Jisoo echoed in his mind. Jihoon was, after all, Seungcheol’s friend. He was also Jeonghan’s close friend. Hence, Seungcheol stood up before the two can enter Jihoon’s bedroom. He grabbed Jihoon’s hand strongly. The pair immediately stopped and it took a few seconds before Jihoon’s clouded eyes found Seungcheol’s.

“What?” the smaller guy asked, voice raspy from alcohol and lust.

Seungcheol ignored Jihoon and looked at the girl instead, “I’ll get you a cab.” He muttered, untangling the two. The girl looked surprised, turning to Jihoon with questioning eyes.

Jihoon, on the other hand, was searching Seungcheol’s face. “What the fuck, Choi?” he growled every word. Seungcheol almost flinched. Jihoon was quiet smiles and childish tantrums. He wasn’t anger and scathing words. This wasn’t Jihoon.

Seungcheol tugged at Jihoon harder, addressing the girl as he continued, “My friend had too much to drink for tonight. I’ll walk you out.”

The girl glared at Seungcheol and waited for Jihoon to say something. When Jihoon just continued to stare at Seungcheol with chocolate eyes slowly concentrating, the girl let out an offended snarl before walking out.

“What was that about?” Jihoon hissed, eyes hard and jaws locked.

Seungcheol met his glare then, “You’ll regret it in the morning.”

“Oh yeah?” Jihoon mocked, sarcasm dripping from his voice as he continued, “And who do you think you are to tell me what to do?”

Seungcheol scratched his neck. He suddenly felt really tired, as if the exhaustion from the past few days was catching up to him. “Hoon, I’m not telling you what to do. I’m just looking out for you.”

“Don’t.” Jihoon’s voice was deadly calm, eyes arctic. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to look out for me.”

“Go inside your room, I’ll grab you a glass of water.” Seungcheol was saying, proceeding to the kitchen.

 

There was a moment of silence before Jihoon spoke again, “Why now Cheol? I’ve been bringing girls and guys before. Why’d you suddenly decided to say something now, huh?” His voice was raw. It had been a long time since Seungcheol had heard that vulnerability in Jihoon’s voice.

Seungcheol paused. Unable to face Jihoon, he whispered, “Soonyoung wouldn’t want to see you like this.”

There was a deafening silence.

Jihoon broke into a hollow laughter, “Don’t you fucking dare talk about Soonyoung. Don’t you fucking dare make it seem like I’m cheating on him. Last time I checked, _you_ did that to Jeonghan. Of all the people! I’m not a cheater, _you are_.”

A door behind him slammed close.

Seungcheol’s grip on the glass tightened so hard that the glass broke within his touch, shards of glass sinking into his skin. Water dripped from his hand. The dam behind his eyes broke.

 

 

 

If Seungcheol could beg Jeonghan for forgiveness, his apology would have probably started here. Spring break of his third year had just ended. Jeonghan was finalizing his requirements for his incoming graduation. Their anniversary was just around the corner. Yet for some reason, Seungcheol had forgotten about that night he had asked Jeonghan to make it official.

Their hands intertwined in the college’s rooftop, as Jeonghan was listening to the radio and Seungcheol watched Jeonghan. While Jeonghan was lying with his eyes closed as he listened reverently to the radio, Seungcheol was admiring the mole on the side of Jeonghan’s creamy neck. Jeonghan was listening to music. Seungcheol was listening to Jeonghan’s breathing, the most calming music to his hears. With a shaky voice, he had asked Jeonghan then, “Would you be my boyfriend?”

 

Seungcheol had forgotten that night when his world seemed to finally make sense. He had forgotten that magical moment one year ago. Hence, instead of being beside Jeonghan on the rooftop as he had promised to do for their first anniversary and the next ones, Seungcheol was at Baekho’s house. His head was throbbing, his throat was burning, his hands shakily grabbing yet another drink.

He should have been with Jeonghan that night. He should have been holding Jeonghan’s warm, big hand as the other chattered about whatever argument Jihoon and Jisoo were having. He should have been burying his face in Jeonghan’s neck and enveloping him in a warm embrace. He should have been kissing Jeonghan’s lips hungrily, moaning his confession of love. He should have been with Jeonghan.

Instead, there he was. Wasting another night with people he thought had accepted him, with people he thought whose opinions mattered. He should have been with Jeonghan. He should have been with _his querencia, his home._

 

But you see, Seungcheol was a fool. He had always been. Ever since that night in which he lied through his teeth that he was not dating Jeonghan, he had been spending less time with his boyfriend. At first, he began spending more nights with Jooheon and Baekho, partying or playing video games. Jeonghan was understanding though, his gentle eyes nodding knowingly. But then, those nights turned to weeks and then, to months. Seungcheol rarely saw Jeonghan anymore. The chosen nights he would come over at Jeonghan’s, he would devote them to worship Jeonghan’s body. He couldn’t bring himself to admit that he missed the other. Instead, he buried himself inside Jeonghan, peppering him with kisses.

Jeonghan, _his beautiful and gentle Jeonghan_ , welcomed him with warm arms. He kissed Seungcheol with equivocal fervor. He moaned how much he loves Seungcheol. He gazed at Seungcheol as if nothing had changed.

Seungcheol had always been a doer. Thus, each touch shouted his apologies and confessions: how sorry he was to be the cowardly boyfriend that Jeonghan didn’t deserve, how much he had missed Jeonghan and his warmth, how he wished he could spend every moment with Jeonghan without giving a fuck about what others thought.

He thought Jeonghan could hear them, could see them, could _feel_ his words. He thought his touches were enough. He thought that they were expressive enough to convey his real emotions. He thought that his kisses showed just how much he desperately loved Jeonghan, But, he had never been so fucking wrong in his entire life.

 

For the entire month following the forgotten anniversary, Seungcheol wasn’t able to reach Jeonghan. He tried calling him endlessly but to no avail. He tried to look for him in campus, knocked on his apartment’s door even. Yet there was nothing. No texts or calls. Seungcheol had never been so frustrated before. Why was Jeonghan ignoring him? Back then, Seungcheol was stupidly naïve about how much he had and was fucking up. Rather, he was blinded with the moment: that Jeonghan was ignoring him and he had no idea why.

 

It wasn’t until he ran into Jihoon in a nearby coffee shop did Seungcheol find out. He was calling out Jihoon’s name. He was certain that he had made eye contact with the smaller guy. The other, however, ignored him. He avoided Seungcheol even. Seungcheol tried to keep up with Jihoon, who was quickly walking out of the café. He managed to catch Jihoon’s arm, “Hoon, wait for fuck’s sake.”

Jihoon turned instantly, jaw set and eyes hard. “What do you want, Choi?”

Seungcheol frowned. Jihoon liked him as Jeonghan’s boyfriend. He even volunteered to be sexiled and cooked pancakes for the couple. “What’s up with you?” Seungcheol asked, confused.

“I think the correct question is what is up with you?” Jihoon spat, roughly pulling his arm from Seungcheol’s grasp. He crossed his arms on his chest, still glaring at the taller.

Seungcheol scratched his neck, “I just-just wanted to know where Hannie has been.” He muttered, unable to meet Jihoon’s blaring gaze. Jihoon had always been supportive, what was wrong with him?

“I don’t know Choi. Why don’t you ask Baekho?” Jihoon’s voice was acidic, eyebrow raised.

“What the fuck does Baekho have anything to do with this?”

Jihoon’s tiny hands curled into fists, “Fuck, you really forgot, didn’t you?”

Forgot what? “Just tell me what it is, Jihoon.”

 

Jihoon ran his fingers across his pink hair, exasperated as he explained begrudgingly, “While you were partying at Jooheon’s last month, Han was waiting for you in the college’s rooftop. He was so fucking excited, Seungcheol. You should have seen him. Fuck, you were supposed to see him! But you weren’t there, you never showed up even! You totally forgot what you have promised a year ago. Maybe next fucking time, you should remember your-”

“Anniversary.” Seungcheol breathed, realization dawning on him. He felt so foolish, so fucking foolish. How could he forget? Seungcheol wanted to bang his head on the nearest wall. No wonder Jeonghan had been ignoring him!

“Shit, you actually forgot.” Jihoon was saying, voice becoming softer. Seungcheol was still dumbstruck, still mentally hitting himself. “Okay, okay. Listen Cheol, Hannie was really hurt but you’ll make it up to him, right?”

Seungcheol could only nod.

“Okay good. Come over tonight at like 7 PM. I’ll leave the door open so you can just come in without asking. Because, otherwise, Han won’t let you in.” Jihoon explained, eyes understanding and voice tender.

Seungcheol nodded, hoping to fucking god that he could fix this… that it wasn’t too late.

 

 

Seungcheol was not a romantic. In fact, he realized that in all of their dates, it had been Jeonghan’s plan or idea all along. It was Jeonghan who put in effort to look for places that they would both like. It was Jeonghan who would randomly gift him trinkets or foods that reminded Jeonghan of him. It had always been Jeonghan taking care of their relationship.

Seungcheol was not good with words either. He didn’t know what to say, or how to ask for forgiveness. Hence, Seungcheol found himself walking into a nearby flower shop and asking the attendant for flowers that conveyed apologies.

“Your girlfriend would love this!” the attendant gushed as she prepared purple hyacints. Seungcheol couldn’t even bear to correct her, his boyfriend… he wanted to say.

But Seungcheol couldn’t so he looked away instead. As his eyes made its way to the bustling city outside the glass window, he found a vase of bright yellow flowers gazing at him.

“What are those?” he asked, pointing.

The attendant followed his gaze, “ _Sunflowers_.”

“And what do they mean?”

“It symbolizes adoration and undying loyalty, just like how these flowers would always follow the sun.”

“I’ll get those instead.”

 

Twenty minutes before 7 PM, Seungcheol was walking to Jeonghan’s place with a bouquet of sunflowers. Even though he was still early, a nervous Seungcheol headed to Jeonghan’s apartment. He turned the knob slowly, discovering that it was indeed unlocked as Jihoon had promised.

What he didn’t expect, however, was the conversation he overheard as he stepped into the foyer, still unseen to the two people inside.

“I can’t fucking believe this, Jihoon!” Jeonghan was shouting. Seungcheol stopped in his tracks; he had never heard Jeonghan shout or get angry before.

“Han, you can’t run away from him forever.” was Jihoon’s response.

He heard a heavy sigh, “I’m not running away from him, Hoon.”

“Then? You don’t even answer his calls. You fucking physically run away from him. You even take the long walk to the cafeteria just to avoid the engineering building!” Seungcheol couldn’t hide the thorns growing inside of him.

“Hoon, I just-” a muffled choke, “I don’t think we can work out.”

Seungcheol’s breathing halted.

“Han? What’s wrong? No no, please, I’m sorry. Don’t cry.”

 

Seungcheol could hear sniffing, could almost imagine Jeonghan cry. He had only seen Jeonghan cry once, while watching Finding Nemo (although that was because Seungcheol was crying and that made Jeonghan cry). Seungcheol had promised then that they would never watch another Pixar movie. It fucking broke his heart to see the pool of tears fall on Jeonghan’s cheeks. Now? He was the reason that Jeonghan was crying. Seungcheol wanted the ground to split open and to devour him.

 

“It’s just- Hoon, he hasn’t even told me that he loves me, you know? It’s been a year and I’m still the only one who tells him how much I love him, how much he means to me.”

_I love you. I love you so fucking much. You’re the light to my eternal darkness. I desperately love you. You make everything so much better. You make me want to become a better person._

“And- and, he’s ashamed of me, Hoon. He’s hiding me from his friends. He doesn’t even spend time with me anymore.”

_You are the best thing that ever happened to me. I wish I can show the world that you are mine. I am yours. I would never be ashamed of you. Maybe I’m still uncomfortable with my sexuality, but I would never ever be ashamed to call you mine._

“Everytime we go out, it feels like he’s taking me out because he needs to. He never puts in any effort and at first, I thought that was how he simply was. But I don’t know anymore, Jihoon _. I don’t think I ever knew him even_. I try to compromise as much as I can and move around my schedule a lot just so we can go out when it’s convenient for him. But he doesn’t. He comes and leaves whenever he pleases.”

_I love you. I would do anything to keep you by my side. I would make the sun set in the east, if it meant you would stay with me._

“You know, the few times that he did spend time with me? He always stayed for sex. He always made sure to see me at least once a week to get laid. Then he would stay the night and the next morning, and I could fool myself into thinking that maybe this is fine. We are fine. Why? Because those few hours felt _so right_ , _so perfect_.”

_You are perfect. The way my hand fits onto the curve of your cheek is simply right. The way your lips caress mine is simply perfect. I love you so much. I’m so fucking sorry that I can’t use my words to express how much I love you, how much I crave you. I thought my touches and kisses were enough. I thought you knew._

“He’s hurting me, Jihoon.” Jeonghan had to choke out every word, weeping. “It hurts when he’s there. It hurts when he’s not there.”

_I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I wanted to make you happy. I want you to be happy. I want to be the one that makes you happy. I want to see your blinding smile. I want to-_

“I- I think I deserve better than how he’s been treating me. I think that I deserve better than this.” Jeonghan finished; his voice was low as a whisper, weak and fragile.

 

The bouquet of sunflowers fell to the floor.

 

 _Jeonghan was right._ The voice inside Seungcheol’s head was saying. Jeonghan deserved so much more than Seungcheol. Jeonghan deserved better.

That was his second mistake. Seungcheol allowed the haunting voice to reign over him. He let his years of insecurity control him. He should have kissed the tears away from Jeonghan’s beautiful face. He should have told him how much he loves him, how much he needs him. He should have apologized and promised to be better, to work harder to be the man that Jeonghan deserved.

But Seungcheol was a coward. He succumbed to his own fear.

 

Thus, he walked away before he could hear a broken Jeonghan continue, “But I love him. I love him so fucking much that all of these doesn’t matter as long as I have him by my side.”

 

 

Seungcheol reverted back to his old ways. From the past years he had battled with this entity called life, he learned that alcohol was a good companion to keep in times of suffering. He also knew that misery loved company. Any type of company, it would seem. He, however, didn’t realize that the two was a very bad combination. That was his third mistake.

He woke up from a loud horn from outside. He could feel his head throbbing and any thoughts of opening his eyes seemed too frightening to do so. Hence, he kept his eyes closed and focused on his breathing instead. It was then that he realized that there was a heaviness on the left side of his bed, on Jeonghan’s side of the bed. There was a head laying on his chest and Seungcheol’s free hand immediately flew to the source of the familiar warmth. He loved waking up next to Jeonghan. If there was anything he needed given the flaring headache he was having, it was undeniably Jeonghan’s smile, Jeonghan’s kiss, Jeonghan’s scent. Seungcheol ran his fingers across Jeonghan’s hair, marveling at the soft hair seeping through the gap between his fingers. Yet his hair smelled differently than usual. That was weird.

Seungcheol loved burying his nose in Jeonghan’s neck as the other’s vanilla shampoo smothered his senses. When had he changed his shampoo? Seungcheol opened an eye with great effort, peeking to see his angel. Yet rather than Jeonghan’s golden mane and wide shoulders, there was a mop of long fiery red hair and a small physique.

 

It was a girl.

There was a naked girl on Seungcheol’s bed, lying on top of Seungcheol’s bare chest.

 

There was a movement in the periphery of Seungcheol’s vision. As astonished as he was to wake up to the scene unfolding in front of him, he was awake enough to shift his attention to the movement that caught his sight. This sight, however, would forever plague his innermost thoughts.

Jeonghan was at the door.

He was wearing a gray hoodie that Seungcheol had left in his apartment weeks ago. His golden hair fell down his perfectly chiseled face, the tips reaching his wide shoulders. He was a gripping an all too recognizable bouquet of sunflowers in his hands. Jeonghan’s luscious lips were fixed into a tight line. His hazel eyes, however, burned Seungcheol. They were swimming with grief, with palpable pain, with depthless anguish.

Seungcheol wished he could reach out and erase that agony that painted Jeonghan’s eyes. Seungcheol wished he could envelop him in a tight embrace and protect him from the suffering that he himself had inflicted on the latter. Seungcheol wished he could mumble apologies and I love you into Jeonghan’s hair.

Yet as Jeonghan’s grip on the sunflowers loosened, as Jeonghan’s eyes turned glassy and cold, _Seungcheol knew_.

 

Seungcheol knew he had lost the only thing that made his life worth living for.

 

Jeonghan rushed outside of his room. Without a thought, Seungcheol ran after him, uncaring that he was completely naked as he tried to stop Jeonghan from leaving his apartment.

“Jeonghan…” He bit out, hand tightening around Jeonghan’s arm.

Jeonghan turned around, hazel eyes void of the usual warmth he had reserved for Seungcheol. Instead, they were arctic as they met Seungcheol’s.

“I- I’m sorry.” Seungcheol muttered pathetically.

Jeonghan didn’t even blink, “Too late, Choi.”

Then he was out of the door.

Jeonghan was gone.

Jeonghan had left.

 

“But, but- _I love you_.” Seungcheol whispered to the wind.

The emptiness that had been his constant company for months began to crawl and settle inside of him.

 

 

 

When Seungcheol jolted awake, his breathing was utterly uneven. His face was wet with his own tears, while his body was coated with sweat.

It was his worst nightmare.

This was so much more worse than his vivid dreams of Jeonghan’s lips on his, of Jeonghan’s blinding smile, of Jeonghan’s Hooning laugh. Those were enough to make him feel hollow for the next few days, make him cry for countless hours. However, reliving the last time he had seen Jeonghan, had spoken to him, had felt his presence… that was just a whole new level of living hell. It left him in pain, an undying agony that would haunt him until he couldn’t take it anymore.

 

With shaking hands, Seungcheol rose and headed to the bathroom. He grabbed a new set of razors and raised his boxers to expose his thighs: solid and built with muscle, scarred and bruised with linear strokes.

It was his notebook; a memoir of his physical pain, which was nothing compared to the anguish that devoured him from the inside. With teary eyes, Seungcheol chose to surrender. He chose to feel physical suffering in order to momentarily escape the stabbing misery that was his ceaseless companion.

 

 _I’m sorry, Jeonghan._ He whispered to himself.

A litany.

A secret song.

One that Jeonghan could never listen to.

Seungcheol was a coward.

That was how he lost Jeonghan, the ray of light in his endless night.

**Author's Note:**

> My first seventeen AU ever since I entered the Carat life about two months ago *proud smile*. This is The Truth Untold: You Know That I Can't Show You Me REIMAGINED. I have adapted the story to fit seventeen and jeongcheol.  
> I am currently writing a sequel for this (SoonHoon your way!) from all of your support (and also because July would kill me if I didn't). Feel free to leave comments, kudos, and follow me on @cheolleowon on twitter.  
> Nevertheless, let's support You Made My Dawn!


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